


BORN TO DIE || hyunsung

by SQUISHSUNGS



Series: summertime sadness [1]
Category: K-pop, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Hwang Hyunjin is Whipped, Inspired by Lana Del Rey Songs, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Stray Kids Angst, Summer Love, a lot of beach, find the lana del rey reference with me, i was very upset when i wrote this, tw: attempted suicide, tw: mentions of sexual assault, tw: underaged drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:13:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29782155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SQUISHSUNGS/pseuds/SQUISHSUNGS
Summary: Han Jisung was the talk of the town for as long as Hyunjin can remember. From behind his curtains, he awaited his arrival each summer. However Han Jisung, underneath his carefree and flirtarious demeanor, was complex, twisted and damaged beyond repair.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin
Series: summertime sadness [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189013
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	BORN TO DIE || hyunsung

**Author's Note:**

> lana del rey brings out the sad bitch in me. once again, this deals with heavy topics mentioned in the tags and if you find yourself in any way triggered by them, then please leave and take care of yourself <3
> 
> it might be a little *very* philosphical since i wrote this at like... 3am
> 
> enjoy~

Fresh, young, innocent charms; Han Jisung had them all. In his pastel tinted clothes and with his bare feet dug in the sand, he made all hearts skip their beats when he walked by. Every inch of him seemed out of this world, from his caramel suntanned skin to his gummy smile that shone as the reflection of sun rays in the sea.

Soft spoken, yet hardheaded. Affectionate, yet distant. He knew how to play the game. He had them running in the palm of his hands, unknowingly trapped in his cage that was the false hope he gave them, wrapped around his finger and never once thinking of setting them free. He held them roped, a trap loosely resting around their necks, till he decided on cramping them in their position.

Han Jisung knew exactly what he was doing; he knew exactly that his bold but shy touches drove boys crazy. He knew exactly that his exposed collar bones sent them tumbling down like dominos. He knew exactly that his salty, messed up hair sparked all the wrong thoughts. He was out for blood; a fatal strike camouflaged as cotton candy pinks and baby blues.

He was staying with his grandparents during that summer too and Hyunjin couldn't help but admire the sole reason his body felt hotter than the blazing seaside air. The arrival of the boy was the highlight of the tall, lanky, almost adult's year. Every first day of the long awaited vacation, Hyunjin would peep through the blinds of his parental home and watch how the younger would step out of the car with such grace and class, that he would have to swallow hard and shake himself out of his daze.

He could swear he saw the boy smile at him, a knowing and captivating smile that, as much as it scared the wits out of him, invited him in to stare a little longer. The boy had roped him with his radiance, pulling the noose around his neck tighter as an impose that he was the only one he could and should have his eyes set on.

Truth be told, Hyunjin wasn't the only one provoked by the blooming being, who was at the peak of his age: not quite matured in features yet, however definitely not a child anymore. He was foreign to the small town and that was exactly what made him so intriguing. He had to do but run a hand through his hair and it would be as if it were a scene from a movie: a frame taken out of a melodramatic act about the unrequited adoration of the boy next door.

In town they'd openly stare the boy down. Anyone would be pulled in by the flowing movements that made it seem as if he was floating, only adding up to the distance that was between Han Jisung and the mundane. And of course, Jisung would respond to those hungry gawks with a scoff and a knowing smirk, then never batting an eyelash at them ever again. He was apathetic, _detached_ as some would like to describe it. He was up in his own mind, the real world passing as a passive, momentary something that would no longer matter the next day. The world was ugly, and in his mind he didn't need another reminder of that aspect of life.

The boys, the girls, they _all_ loved Han Jisung, and he harbored _none_ of that in return.

Yet Hyunjin could feel it, he knew that those alluring glances he got were different from those given to the others. He knew that deep down, Jisung adored him just as much, despite all the attention he got from so many others, despite the lack thereof he had for him. The elder believed his assumptions were confirmed the day the short blond pulled him into an alleyway, his grip unyielding yet at the same time compliant, almost like a wordless plea.

"I've seen you staring," the shorter whispered in a shaky breath, leaning his back against the red bricks of the towering building, pulling Hyunjin close that his lips were tickling his ear. Not once did his hold on the other falter and Hyunjin could feel himself falling harder, faster with the moment. He was in heaven, it had to be; during all those years of distant admiration he could only imagine this to be true.

"I know you want me," the shorter mused, tugging his sleeve seemingly mindlessly, but there was careful calculation behind every action. Jisung bit his lip — not far from a smile, drowning the taller in his big, bewitching irises. "How long were you going to keep hiding behind those curtains?"

All words died in the back of Hyunjin's throat, his head was spinning. Jisung's hands were on his arms, Jisung's fingers were traveling up to his face, Jisung's cherry shaded lips were brushing past his. Jisung, Jisung, _Jisung_.

His sweet fruit punch scent was intoxicating, and so very addictive. All he desired was right in front of him. The blond was in his arms and he was very much real. Despite that fact, it felt like a fever dream; his rising temperature had taken his already lacking common sense, sending him into a pit of disorientation. He'd created detailed scenes, written out a whole plot of a drama, dreaming upon what it would be like if they would interact as any other. But now, with the other being only an inch away, he'd lost all knowledge of how to act. Paralyzed, strung by fear. The noose tightened, cutting off his airways. Hyunjin would like to blame the momentary deficiency of oxygen being supplied to his brain for his lack of intelligence.

Jisung grinned at the boy's stunned silence. So sweet, so innocent and so easy to fool. He reminded him of a little lamb, meek and mild. _How cute._ "Could I borrow you for the rest of the day?"

With that, the dark haired found his voice again, as well as his confidence. Locking the younger with both his hands against the wall, he looked at him with eyebrows raised. "And do what?"

"I don't know," Jisung replied chastely, lifting his head against the back. "What are you thinking? Nothing vulgar, I hope."

The taller cocked an eyebrow. "Why me? I don't recall you ever willingly exchanging a word with me."

"'Cause I like you quite a lot, Hwang Hyunjin," Jisung said, tips of his mouth curling upwards slightly. "You don't whistle after me or act as shamelessly. You know how to keep your distance. I'm also here to have a good time with my grandparents."

Hyunjin leaned back, lead dropping in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know why he felt his mood drop. Because he suddenly was reminded that Jisung was really barely fifteen and had to deal with and live through hungry stares? Because he was most likely an escape maneuver?

"They're coming, aren't they," the blond muttered, sinking down subtly, but the elder caught on. So that's why he'd chosen him; it was sheer dumb luck and they had been faraway neighbors after all. That and he was an easy target; with the years of unrequited pining, he was a toy that came in handy in situations like these.

But interest was interest, and Hyunjin was more than willing to take any the boy had. Even if it was bait that would lead to his downfall.

"That means we're leaving," Hyunjin stated, bolting away when the footsteps neared, dragging the shorter along with his sudden sprint.

"You could warn me next time!" the younger screeched, nearly tripping over his feet.

"Less talking, more running," the dark haired huffed, checking behind if they were being followed. They probably weren't, but he kept running nonetheless. The further away from those bastards, the better.

"I think... I think they're gone," the younger huffed, resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He groaned loudly. "God, this is why I don't do track."

"You'd suck at it, not gonna lie," Hyunjin admitted, though he too was tired. It then hit him; he was alone with Jisung. Finally, no one else was around. He grinned. "Are you going to live up to your words?"

"What?" The younger raised an eyebrow curiously, making the taller's head spin.

"What would you like to do for the rest of the day?" Hyunjin beamed.

"Oh."

Hyunjin swore he heard the dejection in the boy's voice, but the immediate smile that appeared after that made him believe he was imagining things again. His head had a knack for running to the worst possible scenarios.

"But my grandparents, I don't know if they're alright with it," Jisung stammered, cautiously stretching his neck, taking in every detail and potential escape route of his surroundings. "Is... is there really no one else here?"

"It's not a place people usually come," Hyunjin replied, eyes narrowing at the boy's defensive stance. Tensed shoulders, fidgety hands, sped up breathing. "Are you perhaps afraid I might do something to you?"

"No." The boy hadn't even given Hyunjin the time to breath with how quick his reply had followed — too quick for it to pass as honesty.

The dark haired boy inhaled deeply, scratching behind his ear with a thoughtful expression. "Should've known better than to fall for it blindly. I mean, you've been ignoring me for... What now? Five years?"

"It's not that, I swear! I just..." It was as if his vocal chords had given out, the way his voice got killed by the lack of excuses he had left. So Jisung resulted to doing what he always did. "I never meant to hurt you. It's not that I ignored you, I never took the time to approach you because I was being immature. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way."

"No, it's alright," the taller responded quickly. How the mood had changed so frequently in a span of less than an hour, he would like to know too. With his hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped, he motioned for the younger to follow with a whisk of his head. "I'll walk you home."

Now, remorse wasn't usually a word found in Han Jisung's dictionary. Seeing the obvious disappointment, however, was something that could rewrite his manual. It wasn't an odd sight for someone to dislike the outcome of his lead ons, but they'd always be loud and clear about it. Hyunjin, on the other hand, had been silent the whole time they'd sauntered along to their beach side homes. He seemed nonchalant, unaffected even. That wasn't how the events were supposed to turn out. He wanted pain, fury; he wanted a reaction, _any reaction_ that proved his worth.

Goddamn, was he good at hiding his feelings. Surely, that crush he'd had should've upset him a little more than what he was showing; Jisung had to have meant a little more to him than the embittering brightness lighting up his features.

A small cough and a graze on the shoulder. "Want to head to the beach instead?"

Hyunjin blinked, lips stretched in a sarcastic smile. "I thought your grandparents would like you back? You, know, to have a good time with them?"

"You were actually listening to what I was saying," Jisung commented, swinging his arms side to side with every step he took, placing his feet in a way it seemed he was balancing on an invisible line. "I'm impressed, Hwang."

The elder chuckled at the spark of childlike behavior, finding it rather endearing and somewhat relieving to see him act the way a person his age would normally act. "Did we downgrade to last name basis, Han?"

"There should've been an upgrade in order to have a downgrade," the blond shrugged, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly, dancing along to whatever melody was playing inside his head.

"You hurt me," the taller spoke, dramatically dropping himself into the sand, trailing every graceful movement the other boy would make with a silly laugh. "Over and over and over again." 

No worries, no attempts of impressing others; finally, he seemed truly effortless. His oversized red blouse flowed with the movements of the wind, taking all the misery along on its way. He didn't have a problem, or so he liked to say. He was lying, to everyone, but mostly to himself. The sweetness scheme that was his main personality trait, he no longer knew in how far it was genuine. He no longer knew for who exactly he got all dressed up. For himself? For strangers? For the compliments said strangers gave him? He had nowhere to go, nowhere to be; any place would do as long as it was far, far away.

He nearly forgot about the presence of one of those strangers, or maybe he had blocked it out for the time being. He kicked off his shoes, sinking his toes into the sand with a satisfied sing, the coolness a relief to the summertime heat. With the sun drowning in the sea and the first hints of the night sky showing through the glare, it was the perfect time to stroll past the sandy coast.

"It was quite a bitch move to leave you hanging like that," Jisung said out of the blue, drawing random figures in the beige. "Are you still up for whatever I'll bring to you? The day isn't over yet."

"If that's what you want, I'm down for it," the dark haired stated. "Quite literally. Please help me up."

The younger didn't respond verbally, only taking the boy's outstretched hand with a roll of his eyes, struggling to pull him back to his feet. Losing his balance, they both tumbled over, Hyunjin falling face first and having the privilege of tasting the dirt.

Spitting out the bit of beach, the taller wanted nothing more but to suffocate himself again in the grains, or at least be able to scream the embarrassment away.

"This is awkward... Very awkward," he chuckled, though making no attempt to undo the entanglement of their bodies. "Do you find it awkward? It's hot, right? Just me?"

"Hyunjin, for the love of God, _shut up_ ," the younger emphasized, pushing the dead weight off boorishly, making sure the gap between them was of good distance. He kept his gaze locked, digging his nails in his bared arms, the goose bumps dotting every inch of honey tone.

That action once again left the dark haired male in utter confusion, wondering what had come up in the other boy's mind, if he was the one wrong, but he was certain that the fault wasn't at his end this time. He scrunched up his nose, resting his head on his arms. _Odd_ , Han Jisung was _odd_. Too odd to be understandable, but Hyunjin was willing to figure him out. No, he was _determined_ to learn of every little aspect. Not from afar this time; without the protection of his curtains and his bedroom window, he was going to figure out the boy from up close.

"I see you like the beach," Hyunjin commented, following the younger's gaze, taking in the mixing of the tints in the horizon, the lights melting into the deep blue above and under.

Jisung hummed in confirmation. "It could lead anywhere. I could hop on a boat and sail off or just disappear into the depths. It won't matter there if I'm enough or not." He sighed deeply, a subtle smile mirroring the blues of the ocean sneaking on. "Besides, it makes me nostalgic. Reminds me of my childhood and a time I haven't experienced."

"You're not that old, though," the taller stated, squinting his eyes at the boy. "I sure as hell don't feel like I'm old yet and you're younger than me."

"In age... What am I even saying?" The blond chuckled, returning the look the other was sending him playfully. "Why are you glaring at me?"

"This is my thinking face. You're hard to perceive," the elder replied, not moving a muscle. Though he found it weird how image of the boy on his retina seemed to enlarge bit by bit. The delusion was getting more worrisome as time went by.

Though, he seemed awfully close. Cautiously, he leaned his head forward the slightest. Their noses touched. As if getting electrocuted, Hyunjin jolted in reverse. "I thought you wanted to keep distance!"

"I never said that," Jisung uttered a matter of fact-like, raising his eyebrows in aloof. He retracted back into his original stance. It was as if nothing had happened and he had returned to the callous copy everyone knew too well.

"Hard to perceive and with severe fluctuation of moods," the dark haired grumbled, intentionally making it loud enough for it to be heard.

"Have I been a subject of your study all along?" the younger mused, resting his head on his dominant hand with a smirk.

"Would I sound like a creep if I say yes?" Hyunjin questioned, the sand suddenly itching uncomfortably in his clothes. It definitely wasn't because Jisung was about to flee in disgust.

"Maybe a little," the younger admitted, flopping onto his belly, "but what have you learned? Anything juicy, scandals, rumors?"

"Are we going to discuss the gossip about you?" the taller gawked. "Are you really not aware of what they say?"

"I know the grand lines," Jisung shrugged, scrunching up his nose. "It's better if we don't, right?"

He fell mute shortly, then nodding to no one specially. "Yeah, we shouldn't. Well," Before Hyunjin could formulate any type of response, the boy had hopped up on his feet, dusting the dirt off his clothes, good to go, "since we're stuck together, might as well not waste our time rolling around in the sand."

A little delayed, the dark haired bobbed his head, mouth hanging open. He was taken aback, by Jisung, but also by himself, because he normally wasn't someone to be slow to catch onto things. He could easily notice changes in attitudes or in situations; he could read people's faces and body like an open children's book.

Yet with Jisung it was different. He was closed, only showing his cover that had such intricate designs Hyunjin would believe he knew the whole story just by looking at it, though once he read the first page the complicated words and sentence structures made him dizzy. Lead left and right, back to the beginning, his thinking process would be broken by another plot twist. He had to read in between the lines to understand.

And eager to find out the whole story, he trailed the boy's every move like a sick puppy.

"There are three things certain in life," Jisung said, wind ruffling his locks in everything direction. He stuck up his index finger. "One, you get born."

He raised a second finger. "Two, there is this vague middle that'll define you as a person, but that will remain ever-changing till you, three," he stopped walking, "eventually die."

"What are you trying to get at?" Hyunjin inquired, his pace lagging behind.

"We're born to die," the younger sighed, "so we shouldn't be living while fearing death."

With that Hyunjin felt soft lips against his own, the sweet flavor of artificial cherry invading his taste buds. He stiffened, breath hitching as the younger moved his mouth against his. It was as if he had gone into anaphylactic shock, the taste something too much for his body to handle. And just like that, it was over.

"Twelve PM, day's over," Jisung declared with a wink and ending the scene with an innocent giggle.

All Hyunjin could do was watch him disappear into the house close to him, hoping for a tomorrow, but tomorrow never came.

<><><>

Han Jisung was sad. It was alarming, how charming he could be, how he could fool everyone into believing he was having fun, that he was living a fantasy where no imperfections were to be spotted, how he kept everyone interested.

Walking the streets at night, he should've known better than to dress that way. He should've known better than to respond to their calls, but he didn't know better at that time. He'd hobbled after them, like a puppy responding to its owner as soon as they whistled for it. In similar hopes; hopes of being pet, being cared for, being treasured. It was dumb and naive, but at such a young age the horrors lurking around every corner were brushed off as something made up to scare children and keeping them obedient.

He wasn't supposed to be out at that hour; the streets were as dead silent except for those kinds of people. He'd thought that being out would've been a better option than staying locked in with his living nightmares, but the stench of cigarettes and the burning excruciation of their tips pressing in his skin made him beg for those dreams back. The scorching of his flesh, however, was nothing compared to the scratches their filthy nails left over his body, the bruises their fists had made when he had dared scream for someone, anyone. The marks of their teeth in his neck hurt as much as the glass shreds cutting through the soles of his feet — if not more.

The things he'd do to feel lovable again, to feel pure, to feel uncontaminated. Staying up till morning, because as soon as he found what was supposed to be a peaceful slumber, the demons of his past came back as real as they were the first time he'd encountered them. His eyes, bloodshot and petrified, shot open, his lungs inflating deeply and deflating not even half of the air that went in. He blinked, seeing their smirks vividly; he could feel them near his face, the sound of their drawls and drunken cheers on repeat in his memory. He sat up straight, taking a fist full of blond, trying to steady the pace of his breathing according to the ticking of the clock on his bedside table. 

This wouldn't do, he knew that well. Kicking off the sheets, goose bumps formed on his bare torso. In the mirror he could see the moonlight bouncing off his skin, the reflection making him cringe at the sight of that imperishable reminisce tarnishing the balance of his skin. Hideous. He was hideous. He detested having to be met with their autograph every time he'd see himself; despite covering it up with layers of fabric, it was as if the sign could burn right through those clothes, exposed to the world. He was their catastrophe, their signature forever on their wreckage of a masterpiece. 

Mind clouded with overabundant thoughts, he crept down the stairs, shuffling out into the cold night as still as a mouse. Truth be told, he felt as small and helpless as one. He hadn't brought a jacket, the rawness of the air insignificant compared to the ice running through his veins. Once again, he was heading nowhere in particular. Away, he wanted to go away. Away from the memories, away from the torture of being alright, away from all the bullshit he had set himself up with. His feet stung with carvings once again, and the more he wanted to run. The stabbing of shells tenfolded his feelings of distraught. The wind froze the salt on his cheeks, but all his mind could process were the splashes of the salt under his steps.

He sniffled, casting a glance on the town one last time. With a soulless smile he spread his arms, the waves crashing against his middle. The stars blurred together as sharp white lines, the last thing he would see before the blacks of the sea would take him as one of their habitants. The sea took his throat in its claws, dragging him deeper and deeper down by his limbs. It invaded his respiration, forcing entrance. However, he didn't mind any longer, the claws were loving touches to his skin. The only real monster was the one tearing him away from the embrace of the depths.

He coughed, falling on the beach like a corpse. He wished he was. "Why... Why would you do that?!" he wheezed, the air burning his lungs. He had yet to see the person; his vision was still bleary with mostly tears. "No one asked you to play hero!" 

"Then why would you..."

The voice was definitely a male's and Jisung knew it too well by now. The soft velvet edges in which he could find comfort in the darkest moments. Not this time, though. He knew what he was trying to get at, but then again, he felt numb. "Hyunjin, please leave."

"But then you'll do it again," Hyunjin whispered, not daring to let go of the boy's arm. He'd hoped for it to be a nightmare He could wake up from. Little did he know; so did Jisung.

The blond scoffed. "Then why did you stop me, knowing it was in vain?"

"Because I care about you," the elder spoke. His breath hitched at the piercing glare he received in return.

"Do you care about me or do you care about the feelings you harbor for me?" Jisung bit harshly, eyes stone cold. It stayed silent for what felt like an eternity. He undid the other’s grasp, ripping his wrist away from him and undoubtedly leaving a scratch or two. "Too hard of a question, isn't it?"

As he was about to storm off, he felt himself be pulled back once again. He slapped the taller's hand away. "When will you ever stop! Everyone's always dragging me back and forth, taking me along with them to wherever!" he yelled, voice pungent. "What if I don't want to come along?! What if I didn't want to have fun?!"

Hyunjin bit his lip. "Jisung, please–"

"No, shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" He wiped the tears that had spilled over his bottom lashes. "I didn't want to come! But you still did it anyway! Did your friends enjoy it?! Was it fun?!"

The border of reality and the surreal was fading, and Jisung was in no way capable of clearing it out again. He didn't want to. Their faces were merging, flickering from the cynical grin to the pained grimace. Life, sometimes it was too much, but sometimes it wasn't enough, insufficient to the point it felt like it could've been more. More exciting, more successful, more worthy. Either way, the road was dark and hard, the rubble would always do damage. If not to the feet, it would rise into the lungs and ruin you from inside out. He was dying, long before his body would be giving out. What point was it, shining in front of others when once the cameras turned off, he was beclouded and stripped of all vitality.

The dark haired cringed at the sight, watching him fighting the overburden of his mental state. He was sprouting nonsense and words that anyone would take as meaningless, though Hyunjin could see how much it crammed up the boy's head. Now that he noticed it, he prayed for a moment of peace, for fragments of love.

He knew he couldn't help him, couldn't heal him from the things he'd seen and the felt. He couldn't change the past, so he took the younger in his arms, desperate to break him out. "Let it out," he whispered, wincing at the shoves, but ignored them for the sake of being.

The shorter squirmed, struggling to get free, fighting for a way out. "Let me go! Stay away from me! Don't touch me! I don't want you around!"

He didn't sway, not even giving an inch. He stayed steady on his feet. "Let it out, I won't ever hurt you."

How long they had stood there, how many hits he had taken, Hyunjin had lost count of it. They had stayed there long enough for the stars to shift positions multiple times. And once Orion had shifted west, Jisung stopped blabbering his endless strings of accusations.

"I'm sorry if I stepped out of line, but I didn't know what else to do," Hyunjin muttered. "Let me at least walk you back home."

"I don't want to go to their house," Jisung stated, "but I do have something I want to get from there. Come if you like."

He didn't have to ask twice, for the elder was following him like he was the boy's shadow. He hadn't meant to come off as clingy or paranoid, but his heart was beating, banging against his chest and he was _terrified_. He was terrified of the fact that within a blink of an eye a life could be thrown away like that. The most fearsome part was how everyone, including himself, had been unsuspecting.

Jisung returned back out again, a set of fresh — but most importantly dry — clothes on and a bag on his back. "You stayed," he commented, and though it sounded dry, underneath the monotone the other could detect a hint of relief.

"How could I not?" the dark haired responded. _I'd kill for you, die without you_... "I care about you." 

"You don't even know me," the younger told, seating himself on the edge of the beach pier, legs dangling over the edge carelessly. "You like the thrill of the rush I can give. Am I really what you want? I don't want to love you, I want you to love me so I can murder that love in front of your eyes, because I'm ashamed of how I fail at caring about you too."

He unzipped his backpack, pulling out a brown tainted bottle; a bottle that he certainly wasn't supposed to have in his possession. Blankly he twisted the cap off, the foil crackling loudly, and chugged down a significant amount. He wordlessly held it in front of the elder's face as an offer.

Hyunjin's mouth dropped. "Is that wine?"

"It isn't cherry cola, now is it?" the shorter commented, eyebrow cocked in a blazed manner. "My arm's getting sore, so make up your mind. Do you want it or not?"

The dark haired hissed, snatching the bottle from him a taking a swig, the red bitterness burning his throat so badly he coughed. "You... you shouldn't be drinking... this," he choked, grimacing as he wiped his mouth.

"And what if I do? Will you report me?" Jisung challenged, taking the pain relief back again. "You know that you’re guilty too now. And that you're also not legal."

The taller frowned. "I'm more legal than you." 

"You do whatever," the younger muttered, eyes squinted and lips pursed.

It was similar to playing tug of war, Jisung continuously drinking the bordeaux liquid and Hyunjin taking his occasional sips with the argument that he was older and therefore had to take responsibility. They truly hadn't had the intention of finishing it — one of them, at least, but the bottom had been reached and both were leaning on each other for balance, giggling among themselves.

Jisung peeped through the hole on the top, groaning audibly. "It's empty. When did you empty it?"

He pointed an accusing finger, poking him in his chest. "Why did you take my happiness as soon as you gave it? I thought you were different from them," he mumbled, pushing the boy's arm off. He clambered up, stumbling across the pier and leaning over the barriers. "Don't touch me, who knows what you'll do."

Hyunjin followed, vision blurry, the only thing clear the boy's figure at the other end. "But I like you. Even though you hurt me, I don't want to hurt you. "

"They also said they wouldn't hurt me, but then they did it anyway." The blond swatted away the stroke once again. "No, I don't want to be touched wrongly."

"Okay, I won't touch," the taller agreed, holding his hands up in surrender, in the younger's plain sight to prove his point. "Just don't disappear from my view, please."

Truthfully, he hadn't felt comfortable leaving the younger out of his sight any longer, however wasn't that hard to keep his focus on him. Surrounded by the dark, the pale moonlight brought out the heavenly bodies in his eyes. Andromeda littered on the bared parts of his skin. It was as if Heaven had come down, and if Heaven wasn't something like this, Hyunjin refused to enter. Ceasing his motions, Jisung crossed their gazes, and – blame it booze –, the taller didn't look away. Instead he snuck closer, asking for permission with his gaze. Getting a hesitant nod, he delicately lifted the boy's head, his fingers under his chin.

But the boy flinched away from the caress as it were a hit, eyes clenched shut and waiting for the blow. The blow never came, startlingly. Jisung carefully fluttered open his eyelids, meeting the dark haired's solicitude.

"I already said, I won't hurt you, how many times do I have to repeat it?" he whispered, approaching him step by step, tactfully and gently embracing the younger, cupping the back of his head with one hand and resting his chin on the other's shoulder.

Drunk and seeing stars, but in the blond's mind there was one thing clear: he loved the feeling of the other's arms around securely around his body; although he knew it was temporary, he'd enjoy the feeling for now. He pressed his cheek on the elder.

"How do you not hate me?" the younger murmured. "I'm horrible to you and anyone for that matter. I'm disgusting, inside and out. They all see me as an exciting little fling, thrown away once they got what they wanted."

"I could never hate you, because I know that that's not who you are," Hyunjin said. "You're lovable, so, so lovable. Maybe a little troubled, but don't believe what other people say. Your experiences have shaped you into who you are and, as you said, who you are as a person is ever-changing. Just because you're like this now doesn't mean you'll be forever. All you need is better experiences that can fix you."

Little did he know that Han Jisung was, undeniably and undoubtedly, unfixable, with a heart that had turned unbreakable, for it had been crushed to dust. 

<><><>

"I'll send you letters, promise," Hyunjin mumbled into the younger's hair, holding him secure from the back. They were staring over the coast again, the one that held all the worst and greatest memories of them together. Fights, shared kisses, sweet confessions.

"I'll come back next year," Jisung smiled, leaning into the touch, "and then you better be waiting for me outside of your house. I won't be getting out of the car till you come and get me. I mean—"

His words were interrupted by loud honking, followed by a low chuckle. "Jisung, we're leaving."

Both boys stiffened at the unexpected voice from behind. Though the change in demeanor was only the slightest, Hyunjin could see the shaking of the younger's pupils. The boy's small hand grasping his turned forceful, palm sweaty and clammy. "Okay, dad."

The other nodded his head in the male's direction, eyes darting from him to anywhere but. Even he couldn't suppress the shudder slithering down his spine like a cold and scaly serpent, though the creature's eyes were staring right through him from the front. The presence of this man... it was no good, not in the slightest; a beast dressed in designer suits, wearing price tags.

The man behind bared his teeth. It wasn't warm, nor was it welcoming. This was the final image a prey witnessed right before a predator devoured it whole. "I see you seem pretty close to my _son."_

With the way the term had been spit out like salty water, Hyunjin could feel his hold around the younger boy loosening, even when the latter had been pleading speechlessly not to leave him alone. The sky rumbled, the clouds letting their waterworks flow as Hyunjin hadn't had the courage nor felt the right to let them free. "He's been a great friend to me."

"Hyunjin..."

A knife had been pressed in his gut, twisted around in the open wound. Did he now get back what he had given to all those people?

Jisung had been snatched by his fragile arm, dragged away, similar to how a rag doll was pulled around by a little girl who had worn it out. He didn't show much more resistance than a thing as lifeless as that could show; he hadn't the strength left to. As he got shoved into the car, he pressed a hand against the window. _How, why would you?_

Hyunjin swallowed hard, turning his gaze away, conscious-stricken by the teary glare the younger had pierced his soul with. The rusty, old car engine roared, pulling up with screeching tires. The white Mustang had never been seen since after it had vanished over the hill.

And just like that, the summer had breezed by, being replaced by a blustery fall. And just like that, Jisung had left, his memory swept away by the wind. Hyunjin had left to the city for college, the boy never crossing his mind even once. The regret that had blocked out his name made way for new loves, each one of them short and ephemeral. Yet when he visited his old town that shrunk with the growing familiarity of the rustling metropolis, he’d lean his head steadily against the damaged window frame and closed his eyes, once again meeting the hues of soft pastels and the sweet cherry flavor, that he no longer would exist if he opened his lids.

Han Jisung, his blazing summer fire that died as soon as autumn's first rain fell.


End file.
